Batman: End of Days
by devilpuppy
Summary: Imagine you are a superhero, and your most feared, most dangerous, most known enemy is gone. What do you do now? What would happen to Batman after the Joker died?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Decent**

Tired, old legs slowly limped their way down stairs into a cold, dank cave, barely lit anymore. The figure reached the bottom step and paused, catching his breath. His black suit was pressed and the tools of his trade were ready. He stood straight, forcing the weariness and pain out of his face and voice. It was time again to face his new enemy. Back straight, he walked across the cave, weapons at the ready.

"Coffee, sir?" asked Alfred Pennyworth, the butler and last friend of Bruce Wayne and Batman. Alfred looked down at his employer and friend, his tray held ready. Batman was hunched over a bank of monitors, eyes constantly shifting, attempting to catch and log everything. His fingers raced over the keyboard, creating logs and updating profiles on every citizen of Gotham City that appeared in his feeds. Batman mumbled to himself as he watched fifty screens at once, all of them constantly flipping through camera feeds. Alfred knew Batman hadn't slept in days, and had not changed out of the armor in that time. Alfred had watched him obsess over the feeds from fixed cameras and drones flying over the city to weight lifting to keep his edge to flying away to some crime that needed to be stopped.

Batman ignored Alfred's questions, still focused on feeds and not even glancing in Alfred's direction. He sighed and set down the tray of coffee on the corner of a table where an exact tray had been left the previous day. It was untouched, the coffee in the carafe cold. Alfred picked up the old tray and headed up the stairs. He glanced back once then shook his head. He couldn't stand what Batman and Bruce had become. It wasn't always like this. Now, he was too far gone. Alfred was glad this was going to be his last night at the Wayne manor. There was nothing left for him here anymore. The staff had been relieved of their duties since Bruce stayed in the Batcave almost constantly. The pantry was stocked, but only in the small everyday kitchen. Almost all of the rooms had sheets over the furniture since they were never used. It almost seemed that the house had become abandoned.

Alfred reached the Manor proper and set the tray of cold coffee down on the counter in the small kitchen. He poured it down the sink, washed the carafe, put the cups and tray away and finally walked to his bedroom. His bags were already packed, waiting. He picked them up and quietly walked to the front door. He left his key on the table next to the door, put on a hat, and left the manor, closing the door behind him, both to the house and to the past four decades of his life. A taxi waited for him outside the gates. He climbed in and told the driver where to go. Alfred could have left a note, but it would have gone unread anyway.

* * *

Batman's senses had noticed the figure coming down the stairs. His peripheral vision had indicated an older man with a silver tray holding coffee cups. His nose indicated the coffee was freshly brewed, an exotic Sumatra blend. His ears told him the figure had a limp coming down the stairs but tried to hide it as it reached the bottom. Batman's brain took all these clues and deduced that Alfred was bringing him a fresh pot of coffee, that it was not a threat and could be ignored. His brain cut out any other inputs from Alfred's direction to focus on the task at hand. A note was made by his brain to grab a cup in a few minutes, but it could wait.

Batman's almost unblinking eyes continued to scan the screens that showed him cameras all over Gotham City, both mounted on buildings and flying in the sky. In his ear, a police scanner hopped frequencies and chattered away. A computer hooked into the phone networks of Gotham City monitored the phone conversations in the city, with automatic key words programmed to highlight and single out specific conversations for clues to crimes. Another computer was dedicated to accessing all of Gotham City's numerous databases: flight and cruise logs, shipping manifests, records of sales, credit card numbers, call logs, bank accounts, police files, school records, government records, anything that might give a clue to someone performing a crime and how to stop it.

This was Batman's life now. Bruce Wayne had all but vanished in the public eye. There was too much work for Batman to allow any time for Bruce. The Board of Directors had taken over running Wayne Enterprises. Batman remained in the cave, only venturing into the Manor for food and very minimal sleep. There was too much to do for a regular eight hours. There was too much for relationships. He had to take this fight on alone. No one would understand, no one could help him. All that mattered was finding the next crime and stopping it.

When he wasn't monitoring all the information he could gather from Gotham, Batman was patrolling and stopping the crimes with no help. The Commissioner, Jonathan Cole, had become useless. When crime was on the rise, he refused to lobby to increase police powers, refused to enact measures that would give the police and Batman the right to suspect anyone and search anyone for any suspicion of crime, refused to ban all firearms and close off the city so none could come in, refused to take the steps necessary to keep the city safe. He had to be pushed aside and Batman took over the department. The choppers and drones that flew over the city constantly bore the emblem of a bat now, not the police shield. All of their transmissions flowed into the Batcave and were archived on his computer. All of the Police orders came from Batman, and it was he they reported to. The police were his, and he used them ruthlessly to keep crime in check.

The mayor was useless. All he cared about was getting re-elected. As long as crime was down, he didn't care what methods were used. He was weak. He couldn't stand up to Batman and the police he now controlled. The mayor sat in his office, wringing his hands but unable to do anything. He had failed the people, and Batman had to step in to save them. With Batman in charge of the security and safety of Gotham City, crime was at an all-time low. He had finally come close to fulfilling his childhood vow of avenging his parents' death at the hands of criminals.

Batman's ears picked up a call on the scanner. It was a bank robbery. It was the first one in over six months. He put his computer on standby while letting the network security protocols run in the background, preventing hackers from accessing his files and potentially planting a virus. Batman stood and pulled his mask over his face. He ran to his latest Batmobile. Tired of having so many vehicles for specific jobs, this current Batmobile was able to fly and float. It covered all areas he might need to access in Gotham. Batman jumped into the cockpit of one of the vehicles and sealed it, firing up the engines and deploying the wings so he could fly to the crime. The Batmobile exploded out of the cave entrance and zoomed to the city center.

Updates were continually fed to Batman through the scanner. It was a group of six men robbing East Gotham Bank. They had overpowered the guards. One of them was armed with a gun. How had he managed to get a gun into Gotham? Batman had destroyed and banned all firearms shortly after pushing aside the mayor. Police had the building surrounded and were waiting for further orders. Normally, they could handle something like this, but Batman wanted to take care of this personally. He radioed the captain in charge of the units responding and told them to hold, to keep the robbers in the bank. Batman checked the clock. He had two minutes before he would be on target. He made sure his armor was ready. One minute. He tightened his gloves and double checked his belt. Thirty seconds. His mind was focused, ready for the fight.

The Batmobile hovered over the bank building and Batman ejected onto the roof. He ripped the door off of the roof access and ran in. The top floors were clear and Batman ran down to the main floor to the robbers and the hostages. At the door to the main lobby, he used his x-ray scanner to look into the room. The six robbers were arranged around the perimeter. The robber with the gun stood on the far side with his weapon aimed at the hostages. The hostages were sitting down in the center of the room, twelve of them, clerks, cashiers and patrons. They were innocents in this. He would have to be careful not to hurt them.

Batman burst through the door, immediately knocking down one of the robbers. He leapt to the next robber, kicking him in the ribs. He heard ribs crack and the robber went down, clutching his side. One of the robbers ran at Batman and was met in the face with a fist, his nose and cheek bones smashing. The robber with the gun fired two rounds, both of them were deflected off of Batman's armor. Batman ran to the armed robber and grabbed his arm with the gun, twisting it violently. The arm separated out of it's socket and the robber dropped the gun. Batman kicked the robber in the knees, breaking his knee caps and leaving him in a pile on the floor. With only two left, Batman grabbed both by the heads and smashed them together. Bones cracked under the pressure and Batman threw them both to the ground. They impacted and cracked their spines.

Batman looked over the scene. The hostages were still in the center of the room, cowing under the sudden and violent attack. It had only been thirty seconds. Batman allowed himself a smirk at the ease and quickness of taking them down. He grabbed the gun off the floor. He had to take it back to the Batcave and attempt to track it. It was a small pocket pistol, not even powerful enough to cause any real damage. Batman looked over the robbers. They looked like they were taking steroids. They were more muscular than what he usually dealt with. So, criminals were trying a new tactic. Get bigger and stronger to overpower him. Didn't they know that never worked?

Batman grabbed the most conscious robber and slammed him against the wall. "Who are you working for?" Batman had to be intimidating to get scum like this to talk.

"No one." The robber was scared and blabbering. "We just needed the money. We had to knock over the bank to get some."

"Where did you get the gun?"

"We just found it! Jesus, let me go!"

"There are no guns in Gotham. Where did you find it?"

"By the docks!"

Batman hit him once more to knock him out. He took a syringe and drew blood from the robber to analyze and attempt to trace the steroids, to see if he could find out where they had gotten the drugs from. Batman had clamped down hard on illegal drug use and was determined to make sure none of it would be in his Gotham City. Finally, he took pictures of all of the robbers to add to his database, in case they decided to repeat their offences.

Batman strode out the front door to the waiting police officers. "It's done," he said simply, then fired his grappling-hook gun at the roof and climbed into the waiting Batmobile. It sped over Gotham City. Since he was out in town, Batman decided to patrol, to check on the city. The searches were still running in the Batcave and he could check them when he got back. He reflected on the fight tonight, cataloging everything and reviewing the events to make sure next time was faster and better. He should have taken out the criminal with the gun first. He could have prevented any shots from being fired and it might have been over that much faster. He allowed a little bit of satisfaction at the sound of bones breaking as he took down the criminals. The crunching sound let him know they were not going to be an issue for a while. It was what all of his training was about. To stop the criminals and make sure they were not going to commit their crimes again.

* * *

The ambulance pulled up to the bank and the police lifted the crime-scene tape to let them through. The back opened up and EMT Sarah Thompson jumped out. The police had already cleared the area and Sarah made her way into the bank.

One glance and Sarah knew it was another Batman crime scene. She sighed as the stretchers were rolled in. She keyed her radio. "We're going to need five more units," she ordered into the mike. She began to triage the people scattered around the room. None of the hostages were hurt and they were quickly taken outside so the medical personnel could work. Sarah made her way around the room. She could already tell several of the robbers were going to need severe medical attention. Just looking at the injuries, she saw several broken ribs with a possibly punctured lung, two cracked skulls with hemorrhaging, a broken jaw and nose, a broken arm and dislocated shoulder, and shattered knee caps, broken femurs and broken shins. She began working on the man with the broken ribs and possibly punctured lung. He was coughing up frothy blood, and she knew she had to work fast. Sarah looked over the other patients. The man with the broken arm and dislocated shoulder would probably never be able to use it again. The two with the broken skulls would more than likely have permanent brain damage, but there was nothing she could do here. The man with the broken legs would probably never walk again. Sarah sighed again and continued to work on the man's ribs.

Why did they have to wind up like this? With Batman tightening his hold on the city, it was harder and harder for the less fortunate to be able to rise above their situation and try to make a living for themselves. That's why they turned to crime. But with Batman being so harsh on them, they wound up rotting in hospitals and then jail, given no opportunity to better themselves. Sarah shook her head, wondering how much better the city would be without Batman.

* * *

 _Five Years Ago_

Batman glided over the city, watching below for any signs of crime. A headset in his cowl was tuned to the police frequencies and would squawk every now and then. He listened for anything that might be a crime. Since the death of the Joker and the destruction of Wayne Manor, crime was at an all-time low in the city. He couldn't rest, though. It was his vow to help the city, to keep it safe. He looked down at the rooftops gliding beneath him and saw a black shadow running along beneath him. Catwoman ran, jumped and used her whip to move along the rooftops and keep up with him. He hadn't expected her to be his new partner, but he never expected any of the things that had happed to occur.

For the past six months, since the death of the Joker, Catwoman and Batman had been patrolling the city at night, making sure crime was kept in check. They were making the city safer, although, it seemed that Catwoman had ulterior motives. She seemed to put up with the patrols, but only to be with Batman. He knew she was in love with him. With Batman, not Bruce Wayne; it nagged at the back of Bruce Wayne's mind, having to separate his two lives, but Catwoman (or should he say Selena Kyle) seemed satisfied with their arrangement. During the day, they went out shopping, had lunch, and enjoyed each other like any other couple. At night, they both donned their masks and patrolled the city. Even though she had a criminal background, Catwoman helped to identify crimes, she was handy in a fight, and she let Batman lead them. It had been a long time since he had had a partner, and he was enjoying it. The Batcave was still being rebuilt along with the rest of Wayne Manor, but they were able to make due at the penthouse suite of Wayne Towers. He was even able to get some ideas about a new, proper Batmobile, computer and gadget upgrades, better tools since he would no longer have to sacrifice his crime fighting for his relationship.

Below him, Catwoman stopped, her lithe body perched on a roof, looking down, the moon light gleaming on the rounded curve of her buttocks in her tight leather. Batman couldn't help but admire it. He dived down and joined her on the perch. Below them, two gangs faced off, guns and knives at the ready. Batman looked down and was ready to jump between them when Catwoman put a hand on his arm. "Why bother? Why not let them fight it out?"

"They could kill each other."

"So? And what would stopping them help? They'll just find another time and place to do it, and you might not be there. Just let them fight it out now, then clean it up later."

Batman thought. She did have a point. Gang violence was never solved by more violence. They wouldn't stop as long as they had to rely on the gangs for support instead of finding jobs and building lives for themselves. But perhaps he could make a difference tonight. A determined look came over Batman's face and he jumped down between the two gangs. Catwoman sighed and joined him reluctantly.

"Drop your weapons!" Batman shouted, but it was too late. Catwoman was already attacking one group, flipping between attacks, disarming them before they could fire. Batman gritted his teeth and launched into the other gang, quickly disarming them and taking them down. Within seconds, all of them were on the ground, most of them unconscious. Batman strode up to the leader of one of the gangs, still conscious, and put foot on his shoulder to keep him down.

"What was all of this about?"

"This is none of your business. We was just protecting our territory, keeping intruders out!"

"Any type of crime is my business."

"Fuck you!"

Catwoman swaggered up, her hips swaying. Batman looked behind her at the other gang. They were all unconscious, most of them bleeding from her claws. He shook his head. They would have to talk about this later. She enjoyed hurting them too much. He turned his attention back to the leader beneath his foot.

"All of these guns are going to be destroyed."

"Fuck, how will we defend ourselves?"

"Try negotiating."

"You don't really expect that to work, do you?" asked Catwoman from behind. "They'll just find more. Just take him out now, one less thug in the city. Or let them kill themselves. It'll happen eventually."

"But then it will never end," Batman replied.

"As long as they are killing each other, not my problem." She slinked over to one of the guns and picked it up, admiring it in the moonlight.

"Go home, and don't let me catch you out here again," Batman addressed the thug and then proceeded to pick up all of the guns in the ally to destroy them. Catwoman ran behind him, lept, and landed on top of the thug and smashed his head into the concrete, knocking him out. Batman gave her a long stare.

"What? He was going for a gun, I saw it."

Batman shook his head and finished gathering all of the firearms. He put them in a locked bag and prepared to leave. He would drop the key off at police headquarters later. Someone must have heard something because police sirens started to grow louder in the distance. Batman looked at Catwoman and offered her his hand. She took it and intertwined her body with his. He fired his grappling hook and flew to the rooftops with Catwoman hanging on. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she leaned her head in close to his cheek.

"All this action has gotten me excited. How about we head home and celebrate. Nothing else will be going on tonight." To emphasize her point, she lightly ground her hips against him. It was hard to resist when she attacked him with all of her charms. But she was right. The nights had been getting quieter (as far as crime went) since the death of the Joker, and they were hard pressed to find one crime a night to stop.

Batman winged his way over to Wayne Towers and landed on their balcony. It was too high up to be seen from the ground, and shrouded in shadows so no one could see them enter or leave. Catwoman quickly pulled him to the bedroom, her hands pulling off his armor and his unzipping her leather. She stood in the moonlight of the bedroom in just a black thong and her mask. He had only his cowl on and he reached up to remove it when she put her hands on his arms, holding them there.

"No, this time, leave it on!" she whispered in a voice low with desire. He grinned and picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her lips devouring his. In two large strides he carried her over to the bed and the both fell onto it, lips locked, hands exploring. Beneath him, she arched her back, grinding her hips into his, her breasts brushing against his chest. He groaned and pulled her close. In the back of his mind, a small voice tried to remind him that there was something important to talk with her about, but it was ignored as they shared the passion between them.

* * *

 _Today_

Batman sat at his bank of computers, reading over test results, compiling information, and catching up on what he had missed while he took care of the robbery. He read over police reports of what had happened in Gotham. One monitor was fast-forwarding camera feeds, going over events, making sure nothing was missed.

He glanced over to a computer, reading a printout on the analysis of the gun from the robbery. The serial number had been filed down to nothing. Rust was forming in the barrel, preventing analysis of the rifling. The list was too long to try to narrow it down. He needed to work out first.

He quickly reviewed the feed of the cameras from inside the bank during the fight. He took in where everyone was standing and sitting, reviewed how he took everyone down and looked for any flaw in his technique. He used the gym to re-create the scene with dummies and practiced. He repeated and repeated the take down, attempting to make it as efficient as possible. He eliminated any flaw he saw in his technique. He went back and reviewed tapes of his practice and compared them to the footage from the robbery. He saw the improvement and ran through the scene one more time before lifting weights. He lifted until his muscles protested, then pushed them, striving for optimal performance. Sweat poured down his body in the cool cave. He needed a shower and to get back to the analysis of the gun. He climbed the stairs into the manor proper and found all of the lights off. That was odd. Usually, Alfred left at least one light on for him when he was in the cave. He went upstairs into his bedroom. It had been a few days since he had been there: his bed was made and all of his clothes were put away. It was scrupulously neat.

He quickly showered and stepped back into his bedroom. Where were his clothes? Alfred usually had a clean set laid out for him. He crossed to the dresser and pulled out pants and a shirt. He didn't need anything fancy, but Alfred usually had something coordinated for him. Bruce quickly dressed and made his way back to the cave, paying more attention to the house as he passed through it. Sheets were on most of the furniture, and the house looked abandoned. When did that happen? Had he been spending so much time in the cave? It didn't matter. There was work to be done. Pushing the manor out of his thoughts, Bruce reached the secret entrance to his cave. A push of a hidden button moved a two-ton steel door to allow access. Upon passing the threshold, a slight shift in the persona of the man occurred, and Batman stepped into the cave and back to the bank of monitors. He had a lot of catching up to do. He went back to video feeds and started reviewing them, 10 at a time, in high speed. He checked lists and manifests for key words and names, people he had identified as high risk. It didn't matter the time, the work was nearly continuous. With the feed of the police scanner coming into his head phones, Batman hunched over the keyboards, searching, scanning, trying to ferret out any crime and respond before it was too late.

* * *

Selena Kyle sat on the couch in her apartment, legs tucked underneath her. She chewed on a nail while watching the news. Again, Batman and Gotham City was the top story. Footage of bank robbers, bloodied and broken, being wheeled out on stretchers beneath flashing red and blue lights moved across the screen. Footage from earlier came across and Batman, dark and intimidating, emerged from the broken window front. He glanced at the crowd yelling at him and quieted them with a glare. He said something to the police officer, then launched into the air.

A light came on in the hallway. Bathed in it was Selena's lover, Brooke. Selena looked over at her, taking in her beauty, then looked down at the suitcase on the floor next to her. Selena knew what was coming.

"I can't take it anymore," Brooke said. "You were gone, just gone, for three years. No calls, no word, nothing. Then you just show up and expect everything to go back to normal." Brooke crossed the room to Selena and sat next to her, putting her hand on Selena's thigh. "For two years, I never asked. I didn't ask what you were doing nor with whom." She glanced at the TV. "I didn't really have to. But for two years, I've been waiting for you to put your past behind you, but I can't wait anymore. I'm leaving." She looked into Selena's eyes, tears welling. "Don't you have anything to say? Any argument? Something, anything?" Selena turned her head. What could she say? Brooke stood. "Fine. I don't care about anything else in here." She fought back tears, her heart breaking. "Goodbye, Selena."

Brooke grabbed her suitcase and walked out the door, closing it behind her without looking back. Selena couldn't hold back the tears anymore and she fell over on the couch, tears flowing and sobs racking her body. She looked up at the TV, a frozen picture of Batman on the screen. Oh God, Selena thought, what the hell have I done?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Threat Rising**

A dark form moved in shadows. Last night had shown to him what Gotham City had come to. He had been forming the plan for years but now it was time to implement it. He moved deliberately through the room, pulling on boots, gloves and the rest of his gear. The city had sacrificed so much in the name of freedom and safety: to be free from crime, to be safe all the time. No risk, no danger, no reason to fight. The people had become sheep. With Batman willing to take on all criminals and protect everyone, the citizens stood aside and let their rights and freedom be sacrificed. Was it all worth it? There was nowhere in the city anyone could go without being monitored. Cameras recorded everything. Internet searches were monitored. Phone conversations were recorded, all in the name of public safety.

He knew Batman, his prey. He had studied his quarry. The news made it easy, recording every move that they could. He knew his technique, how he fought, how he thought. His quarry might want to protect the city, but he had to save it. He pulled the final piece on, his mask. He took the stairs to the roof and sat, watching the city, listening to the sounds. He closed his eyes, soaking it all in. Ready, he climbed down and began his spree. He pulled a device out of his belt, turned it on, and with the press of a button, every camera within a ten mile radius shorted out and shattered their lenses.

* * *

Batman didn't notice at first. He was listening to the police scanner and going through internet searches. On the second round of cameras, he saw the static. Immediately, more static showed on his screen. He paused the internet search and turned down the scanner to look at the lost camera feeds. Within minutes, he tracked all of the down cameras. It was a ten-mile radius around a point in south Gotham City. It was odd that they all would go out at the same time. It was too much to be a coincidence.

Batman got up and ran to a Batmobile, revved the engine and tore out of the cave. Once outside, it changed and took flight, speeding over the city towards the epicenter of the camera outage. It settled to the road and returned to a more car-like appearance. Batman jumped out, watching a map on his wrist of the downed cameras and made his way to the center of the circle. He found the camera on the side of the building, looking at the entrance. The casing of the camera was blackened from the electrical fire inside and the lens had been shattered. Batman pulled up the feed of the camera on his wrist computer and watched it until the video turned to static. There was no one on the camera. No one had entered nor exited the door of the building.

Batman pulled up the building schematics to look inside. The apartments had been abandoned six months ago. The camera was to make sure no one was squatting inside. Batman entered the building to make sure it was empty. He found nothing on the ground floors and made his way up to the top, still finding nothing. He had nothing better to do so Batman returned to the bottom floor and entered each apartment, searching them thoroughly. He slowly worked his way back up, going into each and every apartment, looking for any clue as to why the cameras would suddenly go out, and who could make them go out.

* * *

Two buildings away, the black-masked figure looked through binoculars at Batman as he searched the abandoned apartments. It was a good thing the figure knew how to cover his tracks, making the dust look undisturbed, like the apartment had been abandoned for months. After Batman had returned to the first floor and had begun a more thorough search, the figure knew he had time.

He had mapped out the route he needed to take and worked out the timing. Deliberately, he moved all over the city, leaving small, inconspicuous devices attached to cameras at specific points all over Gotham City. It took him all night to cover the entire city. Finally, he made his way back to the abandoned apartment. Batman had left, his investigation on hold for now. The figure planted one more device on the already destroyed camera, returned to the roof, and entered his abandoned apartment. Now, it was time to wait.

* * *

The Batmobile entered the cave, pulling into a parking spot and Batman jumping out of it, striding over to the bank of computers. He downloaded all the information he gathered from his wrist computer to the main drive of the cave's computer and began reviewing the data. He turned up the police scanner to listen in and picked up the internet searches again. As usual, one screen was dedicated to flipping through camera feeds throughout the city. Every time the queue came to a broken camera, static was briefly on the screen before moving to another feed. When static came up, Batman was briefly distracted. He tried to clear his thoughts, go back to his searches, but another camera came up with static. Batman grunted, annoyed. He tried to clear his head again, was just about to get back to research when static came back. Batman growled in annoyance, trying to get back to his research. Again, static jarred him away. Batman yelled and slammed his fist into the screen, his annoyance exploding. The screen smoked from the hole left by his fist. He was breathing heavy. He waited for Alfred to come in, like he always did, to say something smart. He could hear him now: "And what was the monitor guilty of?" But there was nothing? It wasn't like Alfred to miss an opportunity like this. Where was he?

Batman removed the monitor from the bank, leaving a glaring hole. He reprogrammed the camera monitors to skip the feeds that just had static so he could continue to work. He moved the feeds to another monitor, a small corner, and continued to work. In the back of his head, he thought about replacing the cameras, how much work it would be, how much money it would cost, more than when he had to install them. It nagged at him constantly and kept him from focusing completely on monitoring Gotham City.

* * *

 _Four Years Ago_

Batman finished the final touches on the camera. He adjusted it and powered it on. He checked his wrist computer; the feed was coming in clearly. He grinned to himself, wondering why he hadn't done this years ago. He closed the wrist computer and launched himself into the air. He glided back to the top floor of Wayne Towers to the penthouse suite. Inside, he found the lights dim, candles burning and the scent of an exotic perfume came to his nose. Batman stripped out of his armor, making his way to the bedroom. There, Bruce Wayne found Selena Kyle, lounging on pillows, basked in candlelight, wearing a negligee that left nothing to the imagination, except how to tear it off of her.

"Everything all set?" she purred, her eyes heavy with desire, it also dripping in her voice.

Bruce's voice was dry. "Yeah." He took in her beauty, her long legs, barely covered breasts, dark eyes, red lips, and hair framing her face.

"Good." She licked her lips and smiled. "I think that calls for a celebration."

Bruce wasted no time and crossed to the bed and covered Selena's body with his. Her hands moved over his body, lips devouring each other. He quickly removed what passed for her clothes and gazed at her body, naked in the candlelight. She smiled and returned his gaze, loving how his eyes devoured her body. She reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him in tight to her. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close. His chest crushed her breasts. Her lips found his ear and started nibbling. The hair on his chest teased her nipples into hard points as he thrust into her. Bruce lost all thought but the feel of her as he climaxed inside her.

He lay on the bed, Selena's limbs entwined with his. Her fingers trailed along his muscles, tracing swirls with her nails. Bruce relaxed, loving the feel of her next to him. The candles had burned down and only the moon, broken through clouds, lit the room. Bruce looked down at Selena's naked form, her long legs, her curved buttocks and breasts, and slim arms, lit by moonlight. He loved how she looked, especially when she was naked in his bed. He reached down and grabbed the wrist computer. He turned it on and flipped through a few cameras he had set up. Selena sat up, staring at him.

"Really Bruce? Now? You can't think of anything better to do?"

"I just wanted to check on it, make sure everything was working."

"I have something else I need you to check on." She grabbed the wrist computer and threw it across the room. She sat up and straddled him, her hips slowly grinding back and forth on his. He grabbed her hips and arched into her. Selena leaned back as Bruce thrust in her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. In the back of Bruce's mind, he thought about the cameras and how to expand them to cover more of the city as he made love to Selena the rest of the night.

* * *

 _Today_

Batman could feel his head getting thick, sitting there researching and listening to the police scanner. It was a quiet night, like they all were now. The broken cameras were a dull thought in the back of his mind and his body ached for action. He got up and went to the gym, working out to clear his head. He moved back to the computer and tried to work. The videos moved back to the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't help but notice gaps in coverage. He checked the inventory at Wayne Enterprises of the cameras to replace them. The current stock was already accounted for with police and military forces. Batman put in an order for more, but he would have to wait at least three weeks for them to be manufactured and delivered. He couldn't focus, he couldn't think. He needed to get out of the cave. He had been working too hard on this, plus there wasn't much he could do from inside. He took a batmobile out and flew around the city. He wasn't looking for anything in particular. He just needed air to clear his head. He flew in circles, eyes not really focusing on anything.

Batman let his thoughts clear and they slowly fell into place and organized themselves. The bank robbery with the gun could wait. The criminals were cowards, as all criminals were. They were amateurs and had no idea what they were doing. No amount of drugs nor weapons could help them. Any leads would more than likely be a dead end and he could put the case on a back burner. He wouldn't forget it entirely, but he didn't have to focus on it. He could let the searches and analysis run in the background and go back for the data. Plus, in their current condition, the robbers weren't going to be going anywhere. His thoughts turned back to the video cameras and the lost feeds. That was his priority now. It wasn't just criminals trying to get money or preying on the weak. It was a direct attack against him and he had to respond. Batman had to crack down hard to keep anyone from imitating who ever this was and he had to do it soon. Right now, no one knew about the cameras nor Batman's degraded surveillance, and he had to keep it that way. Otherwise, total anarchy would break out in the city. Any criminal element would try to make their move against him. He had to keep control, he had to make sure the city was safe!

* * *

The black-masked figure looked up into the sky, hiding in shadows, biding his time. He knew Batman would be flying tonight. He couldn't just leave the cameras alone. Well, he was going to have more to worry about in a few minutes.

The roar of the Batman's plane overhead focused the figure's attention and he pulled out a small device from his pocket. It was a device of his own design and it was tied to several scattered around the city on Batman's cameras. When Batman was overhead, the figure pressed a button and several things started happening all at once. All over the city, cameras burned out and lenses cracked, rendering them inoperable. From the device in the figures hand, a pulse shot straight up at Batman, disabling the electronics in his craft. The engines cut out, screens went blank, lights were blown out, and the craft fell out of the sky to its doom.

* * *

Batman was scrambling in the cockpit. Nothing would respond. The engines were out, he had no control, and he couldn't even get the wheels down to attempt a landing. The buildings were approaching at an alarming rate, his decent picking up speed. He had no choice, he had to abandon it. He pulled the ejection lever. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, but the circuit controlling it was completely burned out. He took off his harness and tried to open the canopy. It wouldn't budge. He pulled out a batarang to cut the glass and looked up just in time to see the impact with the rooftop.

* * *

 _Four years ago_

Batman looked down at the gang members lying unconscious in the alley. He had pushed himself a bit harder tonight, taking on a larger group. He hadn't even cared about the guns, the suit's armor took care of that. He was breathing hard, his limbs still tight from the exertion. He looked up and saw Catwoman, staring at him with a hungry look in her eyes. This was the reward for tonight. It seemed the more brutal he was, the more he took on each night, the longer, the more passionate their lovemaking was. In fact, he had a hard time containing himself right now, looking at her in her skin-tight leather, her curves begging to be touched.

It seemed she sensed his desire, his need. She slowly reached up and pulled the zipper down on her suit, exposing the creamy-white flesh of her breasts underneath. She stalked towards him, stepping over unconscious bodies, her hips swaying with each step. Once she reached Batman, she pulled him closed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He returned her kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. His hands moved up to her shoulders and pushed her suit off, pulling down to her waist. She wrapped a leg around his and pulled him close. Her hands began pulling off his armor, exposing his hard muscles. He pulled the rest of her leather suit down and she leaned against a building wall. She raised her head in pleasure as he took her there in the alley, not caring who might see.

Even though he finished, their night was far from over. Upon returning to the penthouse, they made love all night. For the rest of the week, the pattern continued. Brutally, Batman and Catwoman dispensed justice, taking down gang members, robbers, potential murderers and rapists, and then rewarded themselves with a night of fierce passion. The more they expended on the criminals, the better the sex was. They became the most feared in Gotham, and soon, no one dared to go out at night. That suited Batman and Catwoman fine. They could spend their nights in each other's arms, making up for the lack of fighting with more passion in the bedroom.

It wasn't until they went out on another patrol that things changed. Another gang war and Batman and Catwoman dropped between them as they usually did. They immediately started fighting, getting the jump on both groups. Batman's fists and feet flew through the air, knocking out thug after thug. It wasn't enough. He hit harder and harder. Joints dislocated, bones broke, skin split open from the fierceness of his attack.

Catwoman stood in awe at the savagery of it, and it scared her. He didn't stop until all were unconscious and bleeding. His armor was covered in blood, all of it belonging to the unconscious bodies on the ground. He turned to Catwoman, his chest heaving from exertion, and grabbed her. Roughly his mouth took hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. Her hands tried to press against his chest, but he held her tight. She had to admit, it was impressive, as it always was, to see him in action, how he took control and dealt out justice. However, he had become scary tonight, more so than usual. She returned his kiss and told herself it was just tonight, it was only once that Batman almost lost control. She knew that tonight was going to be a long night of lovemaking from their exertion, and that loss of control might make the sex more interesting. Batman held her tight and launched them both into the air, winging his way back to the penthouse and the promise of a night of passion.

* * *

 _Today_

Batman pulled himself out of the wreckage of his batmobile. The fuel was burning, setting other components on fire. He tried to pull himself up straight, but his back and legs collapsed underneath him. He fell to his hands and knees and crawled away from the wreckage. He rolled over onto his back, attempting to assess his injuries. His back and ankle were sprained, his ribs seemed to be cracked, and it felt like an arm was broken. He didn't have time. He had to move. Within seconds the batmobile would explode, destroying everything to prevent his technology from falling into the wrong hands.

Batman rolled over and crawled as fast as he could to the edge of the roof he had landed on, but he wasn't fast enough. The batmobile exploded, peppering him with shrapnel that cut through his mask and the spaces in his armor. The blast blew him off the roof and he fell, hitting fire escapes and stairs on his way down. His cape and armor were in tatters, his body was broken, and his transportation was destroyed. He slowly reached into his belt and pulled out a phone, calling the only person he knew that could help him: Alfred. He put the phone up to his ear to hear "We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. If you think…" He hit end on the call and lay there, trying to figure out what to do next. He was going to have to get himself out of here, and his body was in no condition to do so. He couldn't have the police pick him up, they would find out who he was. Without Alfred, there was no one else he could rely on.

Batman looked around to assess his options. He crawled to a nearby car and pulled himself up by the door handle. He gathered enough strength to break the window and pull open the door. He fell in across the seats, breathing hard from the pain and exertion. He had to push through this and get out of here. People and police would be arriving soon. He pulled a set of pick-locks from his belt and used them to start the car. Painfully, he sped from the alley, bouncing down the road and heading back to Wayne manor and his cave. There, he could get Alfred to help him to heal and then immediately come out and find the one responsible for the attack. He soon pulled into the drive that led to the Manor. He pulled as close to the front of the house as possible and stopped the car. Batman fell out once he opened the car door and hit the ground hard. He dragged himself up the stairs to the front door and found it locked. He pulled his keys out and unlocked the door, pushing it open and crawling into his house. Once past the threshold, he collapsed on the hardwood to gather his strength. His house was his sanctuary. It was here he could heal.

* * *

Selena Kyle watched the news, a report of a crash and explosion in Gotham City. She recognized the design through the flames. It was a Batmobile. He was working on it right before she left. Oh God, he was there, alone. What happened? Who could have done this to him? It had been years, but her heart ached out to him still. She had to go to him. She got up from the couch and started throwing clothes into a bag. She pulled out her leather catsuit and mask, looking at it, and finally throwing them into her bag. She had to get to Gotham.

* * *

 _Three years ago_

Batman walked around his cave, his hands trailing over his new console that housed banks of state-of-the-art computers, monitors, and forensics equipment. It was finally finished. The last few details were being applied to the manor proper upstairs, but his cave was finished. He powered up the computers and monitors, making sure everything worked. He picked up his wrist computer for his suit, synching it with the main computer and checking the connections. He sat in the chair, his hands flying over keyboards, eyes scanning information. A new chapter started in his life, one where he could dedicate his life to his one-man war. No more distractions, no more going easy. It was time to unleash the full fury of the Batman.

* * *

Selina Kyle stood at the door to an apartment, unsure how to proceed.

She finally knocked on the door. It opened up to a tall blonde standing in the doorway. Selena looked up at her and said "Hey, Brooke. Can I come in?"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: Spiraling Down**

Batman woke with a start and looked around his cave. He tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. His ribs, limbs and whole body were broken and sore, keeping him out of commission. He lay back down on the bed in the cave, attempting to see how best he could move around. He tested his limbs, seeing what worked and what didn't. He slowly tried to rise off the bed, resting on his elbows. He got himself to sit up, one arm at his ribs. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, gathering strength to stand up. He tried to stand and fell to the floor. Batman pulled himself to his hands and crawled to the stairs. He looked up at them, seeing the length he would have to go. He slowly began to pull himself up one stair at a time.

* * *

It started slowly. Just one person noticing that a camera was burned out. They thought it was odd, but didn't want to risk it with all of the other cameras. No reason to try anything.

But then there was another, and another. Quickly word began to spread. Gotham was a large city, but it didn't take long before word spread across town, the cameras were out. Batman had no eyes. It was time to take the city back. Within just 24 hours, the first riots and looting began.

* * *

The lone, masked figure looked at the city, as the first fires started. It was a bold plan, taking down Batman to build up the city, but he had gone too far. He needed to be shown the error of his ways. And perhaps it was time for a new hero to take control of protecting the city.

This was only the first step. With the people free from Batman's gaze, they could start to move again, be free again without the worry of being watched all the time. True, phone calls and internet usage was still monitored, but it was a start. Within days, he hoped, the city would be completely free.

The figure moved back to his apartment, preparing for the next showdown. He knew this wasn't the end between him and Batman, and another confrontation would be forthcoming. It was time to prepare, to be ready.

* * *

Batman sat in the cave, staring at the news. He had no cameras to monitor the city, but it didn't matter. News helicopters and on scene reporters provided him more than enough footage. The city was starting to tear itself apart. Without him there to keep crime in check, it would get out of control.

But he was in no shape to take care of this problem himself. He was still healing from the crash. He had set the broken bone himself, bandaged his ribs, and was icing everything that was sprained. It would take weeks before he could go back out. But he didn't have weeks. He needed help. He began dispatching police as best he could, telling them to concentrate on the central city and North. There was nothing really worth saving in the south part of the city. He took his time getting out of his seat. He had to go out, to get help, to get his city under control.

Batman adjusted his armor around the bandages and braces, attempting to keep everything in place. He straightened his walk and tried to hide his limp. He couldn't let anyone see any weakness in him. He strode over to a Batmobile and started it up, heading out into the city to try to take it back from chaos.

* * *

Jonathan Cole sat in his office, staring out the window at the city he used to protect. It might say "Police Commissioner" on his door, but he had no more control over the police than he had control over the city. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. What had happened to this town? What had happened to his police force? Crime was down, but at what cost? With so little crime, why were there so many police patrolling? Questions circled in his head, and they always came back to one answer: Batman.

When he took over as police commissioner, he thought that Batman was dangerous, and he told Jim Gordon. Told him exactly what he thought. Too bad he didn't know Batman was right there, listening to everything. Maybe that explained the shit-eating grin on Jim's face. But he had gotten to know Batman. He had seemed to help. However, ever since the last incident with the Joker, things had changed. It was slowly at first, but Batman became ruthless, took no mercy. It was the first time Jon had seen him completely go over the edge to punish criminals. He took another long drag and a breeze blew the smoke into his office. Batman emerged from the shadows, like he always did, and threw down a file folder.

"What the hell do you want?" Jon didn't even turn to look at him.

"We have a problem. Someone has been taking out my cameras all over the city. I think this is the start of something. We need to act fast to stop whomever is doing this. In the folder are the locations he's hit and a few brief vid-caps of who it might be. I need you to get your officers to look for him." Batman was stern, showing no emotion.

"Tell them your damn self." Jon took another drag. "They don't answer to me anymore anyways. We both know that. Why did you even bother coming by?"

"We need to stop this soon, Jon. I need your help on this."

"The hell you do!" Jon stubbed out his cigarette. "You've been running this police department and damn near the entire city for almost five years now. You don't need me anymore. You have this all wrapped up yourself. You keep the mayor locked down, I'm powerless. What the hell did you expect to accomplish in coming over here." Batman showed no emotion but Jon could tell he was getting to him. "You want something done, get it done your fucking self. I'm going home." Jon grabbed his coat and walked out, leaving Batman alone.

Jon stalked to his car and drove home through the rioting streets. Yeah, the city was tearing itself apart, but with Batman still here, there was nothing he could do about it. He went into his home and barricaded it. Thankfully he didn't have a wife and kids to pull into this mess. He grabbed a shotgun from his closet and loaded it. He sat in his living room and lit another cigarette. Yeah, these things would kill him, but not if a thug did first. Jon Cole sat and waited as the city burned down around him, powerless to stop it.

* * *

Batman flew into the apartment of Barbra Gordon. He sat at the window. Most of the lights were off, save for the TV coming from the living room. He moved in and stood there, watching Barbra asleep on the couch. He reached over and turned off the TV.

"You know, you never could sneak up on me," Barbra said from the couch. She opened her eyes and sat up, staring at Batman. "Why are you here, Bruce? What do you want? I haven't broken any laws, and I'm already a cripple, so there isn't much for you to do."

"I have to find out who is responsible for these attacks on me. They are going after me, not the city. Its personal. I need your help, Barbra."

"Really, you need my help to further oppress the people of Gotham? You already have them under your iron fist and no one can move." Her words cut deep into Batman. First Jon, now Barbra. Was he the one responsible for all of this? Was the city tearing itself apart because of him? "To try to make this city safe, you have sacrificed everyone's freedoms. Yeah, there are no more super criminals, hardly any crime at all, but what has it cost the people of Gotham? Dad would be ashamed if he could see you." Barbra was relentless and knew just how to hurt him.

Batman looked around. "Where is your father?"

"He died a year and a half ago."

Batman's eyes fell. "Barbra, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, sure you are. You were so busy and keeping secluded so I figured you wouldn't care. Plus, if you wanted to say anything, you have everyone's phones tapped, you would have heard. What happened to you, Bruce? This isn't what you wanted, you've strayed off your path. I don't know whose side you're on anymore, the people of Gotham, or are you the new super criminal in town? Take a good hard look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Batman couldn't let his emotion show, but his mind was reeling from Barbra's words. What had he done to this city? Had he sacrificed everything to uphold his vow? Was his vow even worth keeping at this point, or had he become part of the problem?

Barbra rolled over on the couch, her back to Batman. "Go home Bruce. Don't come back. There isn't anything left here for you anymore. As a child, I might have thought I was in love with you, but your true colors have now come though." She pulled the covers up to her neck and kept her face hidden. She didn't want Batman to see the tears the came to her eyes as she shut him out of her life for good.

* * *

Batman did the only thing he could. He called in all of his troops, police loyal to him. They cleared the streets, moving block to block, keeping families in homes, making sure no one was out. They lined the roads, ensuring peace. There was no one they could trust. All were suspect.

Batman stood atop his perch, the highest building in Gotham, overlooking the city. He waited. His troops were stationed, ready to tip him off to any sighting. He continued to scan through what few cameras remained, looking for the next one to fail, the next one to go static.

The masked man looked around his room, a determined look on his face. This time he had gone too far. Batman had imposed his own martial law, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

The figure rose and began to don his gear. Smoke bombs, throwing blades, grappling hooks; all weapons needed to defeat his quarry. The last step, he pushed enter on his laptop and walked outside.

* * *

Every camera left in the city went to static. Every single one. How did he hack my network, Batman thought. What virus could penetrate my firewall? Its airtight.

"Be ready, its about to start." Batman gave the terse command to his men. His enemy thought he was being clever, but he gave away his moves. Everyone was on heightened alert. They waited.

Thirty minutes went by. Nothing.

Forty-five minutes, nothing.

At an hour, Batman knew something was wrong.

"Everyone, check in." Silence. "Can anyone hear me?" Again, silence. No comms, no cameras, his men could be dead. He had to do this himself.

Batman launched himself from his perch, flying over the streets of Gotham, searching. He saw his men, standing guard. So, he took out my radios, too, Batman thought. Soon, he started to see his men laying down at their posts. Winging down to investigate, Batman found them unconscious. He followed the trail. He knew it was a trap, but he had no choice. It ended at a cluster of abandoned apartment buildings. He saw a masked-figure, standing, waiting for him. He already knew he was coming. Batman dropped down and stalked towards him.

"You've gone too far. You've crippled this city," the figure said.

"I've kept this city safe," Batman replied. "No crime, no murders, people can walk the streets at night and feel secure." Who was this new criminal? His mind searched for a match to the voice, attempted to place a face to it, but nothing came to him. He had a new crime boss on his hands.

"But do they? They are terrified of you, what you know, what you can do. What is the price for their safety? Privacy, opportunity? You've squeezed this city more than any criminal you ever fought. You've become worse than they ever could."

Rage filled Batman. How dare he? How did _he_ know? What right did _he_ have to question his tactics? This was his city, his people to protect. The time for talk was over. Batman launched himself at the masked figure.

* * *

Catwoman lept from rooftop to rooftop, knowing Batman had to be here. She had to find him, had to help. She created him, turned him into a monster. It was her responsibility to fix what had gone wrong.

Responsibility. Who knew she would ever use that word? She had always played loose with the law, skirting both sides of it. She had never apologized for it, not even when she and Batman tried to fight crime. Honestly, it was more about being with him than joining his one-man war on crime in Gotham City. Crime made the city more fun, let the color come out, and liven up the place. But it was always about being with Batman.

It had to be Batman, not Bruce Wayne. They really were two different people. Bruce Wayne, the mask that Batman wore, was your typical socialite, rich, in charge of a billion-dollar company, and had free reign of the city. Batman had free reign of the city, but it was the power that exuded from him that attracted Catwoman. The power he had, and how he used it made her want him more.

But something changed. In the years they were together, something turned in Batman, something went dark. His one-man war became an obsession. He had no one to take up his mantle, and he drove himself to madness trying to save the city. And she helped push him along. She watched how he turned savage, ruthless, gave no quarter, no mercy, and she did nothing. She should have saved him, but she was scared of what he was becoming, and still in love with him, and completely torn. So she did what she always did, she left. She didn't know what to do and she turned her back on everything and tried to pick up her old life. It hadn't ended well.

However, she was here now. Catwoman had to do something. It had gone too far. She could no longer sit at home, watch what was happening to her city, and her love, and not do something. Maybe she could turn him around, maybe she could get through to him. Maybe, he loved her.

That was her fear, that after all of this, he would still put his war above everything else, even her. But she had to put that aside, had to help this city, try to save it. She had a responsibility. There was that word again.

Catwoman ran across the rooftops, heading towards the river. She hoped she could find Batman in time, for both him, and the city.

* * *

Batman chased his quarry across the rooftops of Gotham. His injuries had only marginally decreased his abilities. The fight was furious at first, and then the masked man ran. Heading down alleys, up fire escapes, across rooves, his quarry wasn't trying to get away, he was positioning, he was trying to get an edge on Batman, trying to find a place that would be to his advantage. The man in the black mask knew he couldn't run forever, and Batman waited to see when he would turn to make his move. It would have to be soon. The river was approaching fast.

It was sudden. His enemy ducked right behind a roof access. Batman was close and turned, only to receive a pipe to the face. The man was prepared, but Batman was more so. A quick block with his arm and Batman knocked the pipe out of his hand. It was quickly followed up with several punches to his face, throat and chest, not giving any quarter, giving Batman no time to rest. Due to his training, Batman was ready and quickly parried and blocked the fury of punches aimed at him. This guy was quick, Batman noted. And smart. He knew Batman's fighting style, and was able to anticipate each counter-strike that was thrown at him. They backed off and faced each other, each assuming a fighting stance. They quickly covered the distance between them, legs and arms flying at each other, each attempting to land a blow, and both failing.

They bounced back away from each other again, regrouping and preparing for the next fury of limbs. They faced each other and knew that neither had an advantage. They were breathing hard, each throw, each punch using all their power. They calculated, attempting to determine what the other would do when a flash of black landed on the roof in a crouch. The form rose, revealing Catwoman, ready to intervene.

"What are you doing here, Selena?" Batman demanded. He hadn't seen her since she left three years ago. Why was she interfering now? Was she working with this masked man? "You have no business in this."

"Yes I do," she replied. "It was my fault for all of this. I have to help clean it up. I have to help you!"

"What are you talking about? Help me? You have nothing to do with this, other than leaving. With you gone, I was able to reach my full potential. I can finally dedicate fully to what I was only dabbling at before." Batman caught himself. He was starting to rant. He had to reel it in, not give either a chance to strike him when he was unprepared. What was their plan here? Were they going to try to kill him, subdue him? What was their end goal?

The attack came suddenly. Both charged at him. Neither had worked together before so the attacks were sloppy, clumsy. They got in each other's way and didn't know how to coordinate. It took years to form that bond, something he had done with so many Robin's in the past.

A blow suddenly landed on the side of Batman's head. Why did he let himself be distracted by thoughts like that? It was in the past. No need to dwell on it. Batman re-doubled his efforts, striking hard and fast, giving them no advantage, pressing the attack. Punch after punch, kick after kick landed on his foes. He was wearing them down, they were weakening, they couldn't keep this up long. A duck, a parry, and Batman landed a savage kick, to Catwoman's stomach, that sent her flying off the rooftop. He ignored her yelp and pressed on the man in the black mask. He struck a final blow as the sound of a body clanging off fire escapes caught his ear. No, Catwoman is faster than that, she should be able to catch herself, he thought to himself. He turned as he heard a loud thud and crack of a body hitting pavement. He ran to the edge of the roof and saw Catwoman, sprawled on the ground, her blood pooling around here. She didn't move.

Oh my God, Batman thought. What have I done? How could I have killed her? What has become of me?

The masked man ran to the edge of the roof and jumped off, landing expertly on the ground next to Catwoman. He looked her over then looked up at Batman. He pulled of his mask, staring up into the eyes of Batman. No, they had become the eyes of Bruce Wayne, now a killer. He had only seen him once, but Bruce would never forget that face. His son, Damien. Shot by the Joker. How could he be living?

Batman backed away from the roof. His head was spinning. What was going on? Dead men coming back to life, he had taken a life, broken his vow to his parents. Batman screamed in frustration, agony, fear, pain, everything he had kept pent up over the years. He yelled and ran, tried to run back to the past, to escape, to change everything. It was a lost cause. He jumped into the air, gliding between buildings, aiming for the one place he knew would be safe, he knew he could think, organize his thoughts, be safe from the evils of the world: the Batcave.

* * *

Damien looked Selina over. She was in bad shape, but she wasn't dead. He quickly bandaged her wounds and carried her to the hospital. They immediately began working on her, unknown if she would pull through the night.

He had hurt him, Damien thought. He was injured, emotionally. He never thought to see his face again, or become so much of what he feared. Damien had heard Batman's yell as he tried to escape. It was a cry of pain, agony, being torn emotionally. Now was the time to press home the advantage, to see if he could complete what he had started.

He had never meant to kill or even hurt Batman. This was all in a way to get him to stop, to free the people from Batman's grasp. He couldn't see it, but Batman was choking the city, squeezing it to lifelessness. As his power and influence grew, the people of Gotham suffered. They feared going out at night not because of criminals, but because of Batman. Who knew what he would take offense to? Who knew what would set him off? He had held to his vow of not killing, but Batman had become crueler with each passing month. It was time he was stopped.

Damien left the hospital. There was nothing he could do here. He pulled out his phone, the only piece of technology he really had. He knew it would be tracked, but he would be long gone by the time Batman figured out where it was. He turned it on and quickly hacked into Batman's network. The cameras provided all of the programming he needed to access everything. With one keystroke, he turned off all of the cameras, disabled his network links, and prevented them from coming back on until he said so. Damien then severed the link, turned off the phone and dropped it there in the street. It was amazing what modern technology could do, and how it could be so effective.

With that step done, Damien ran towards where the final confrontation would be. He would have plenty of time while Batman searched for him. He would make sure it would be perfect, and it would end tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 **Endings and Beginnings**

Batman sat in the cave, his face in his hands. His networks were down, the cameras were off, the computer completely useless. He still had all the data he had accumulated over the years, but what good was it when he couldn't cross check or correlate it to anything.

Worse was the dawning realization of what he had done the past three years. Three years he had consolidated his control over Gotham. Nothing happened in the city without him knowing about it. Not just crime, but everything was under his watch. Everyone was suspect. He had turned Gotham into a prison, and he was the warden. He had created a city full of inmates, and he watched over all of them. He had taken away everyone's freedoms, and enforced his rule with brutal efficiency. What had become of the city? What had become of the people? What had become of his company? What had become of him?

He had taken a life tonight. He had lost his touch with his vow. He never used a gun, but he had lost control. What had made him go over the edge? What was it that made him turn? How close was he to becoming that which he feared, one of the criminals he hunted?

A sound made his head turn, and he saw his son, Damien, standing at the top of the stairs to the cave. A son he had never known he had, a son he thought dead, a son who hated him and what he had done to this city. They stared at each other. It was only a few feet, but it might as well have been miles. Batman knew nothing about him, but Damien knew everything about Batman, all the things he hated. Damien jumped from the top of the stairs and landed expertly in the middle of the cave. He had skill, Batman had to admit. He more than held his own against Batman. And he had been able to keep himself hidden from him. He would have made a great ally.

Damien broke the silence. "It's time to end this. You've gone too far. It has to end, all of it, tonight."

Rage and fury suddenly rose inside Batman. While he had just started to realize what he had done, who was Damien, who had no connection to this city, to blame him? How could he accuse and know what is right or wrong? Batman slowly stood.

"You think you know what's best for this city? You think you know what's best for me? This city would crumble without me."

"Have you looked outside recently? The city is already crumbling. It's all falling down around you, and you have no idea. You are lost in your one-man war on crime, you've lost sight of what you are doing to this city. Have you looked at the jails recently? They are practically empty, because everyone you arrest is rotting in a hospital bed. You might not kill anyone, but you have taken their livelihoods, their ability to take care of themselves. The people are leaving. Pretty soon, you won't have anyone to protect. And it's all because of you." Damien tensed, waiting for the attack he knew would come.

The words cut deep into Batman. The rage and fury conflicted with guilt and the realization of what he had done. It was too much, he couldn't think, he couldn't sort it all out. He needed to lash out, to do something. He charged at Damien, at his accuser, to show him what his power could do.

Damien parried his blows. Batman was practically flailing, the control he had worked all of his life for practically gone as he desperately tried to cling onto anything that would show he had done right these past years, something that he could use to justify himself and forgive himself. The rage made him sloppy and Damien was able to avoid his blows. Batman lashed out and Damien quickly parried the punch and landed a kick squarely on his broken ribs. The breath left his lungs and Batman collapsed on the ground, the pain sharp in his side and chest. He had to push it away, to ignore it. He'd had worse. He rose and Damien moved inside his reach and landed dozens of quick punched to his ribs, keeping up the pain, increasing the pressure. Batman's mouth opened in pain but no sound emerged. He had no air to make any noise.

Damien swept Batman's legs from under him and he fell hard. In half of a second, Damien was on top of him, landing blows to his face and head. Batman could only block one side, the other arm still broken and couldn't take anymore. With each blow that landed, memories flashed in Batman's mind. He saw the past five years since the Joker died. He was what he became, he saw what he had done, he saw how he failed his parents. He stopped fighting. He lay there and took Damien's punches. There was no reason to fight now. He had lost. He had failed. It was time to end it.

Damien threw one final punch and stood, realizing Batman stopped resisting. He lay there on the cave floor, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Damien could barely see his chest raise and fall as he labored to breathe. Damien walked over to the bank of computers, entered a command, and began erasing data, severing connections, cancelling searches, and ending the reign of terror of the Batman.

* * *

The police slowly began to restore order. It took time. They were used to following Batman, and had to learn to listen to the commissioner. Jonathan Cole slowly took back his department. He had been out of it for a while. It took over a week just to get him back into the office. But from there, he fell right back into his job, directing his precincts, ordering his officers, protecting _his_ city.

Within a month, the department was almost back to normal, the cops on the streets, protecting and helping people. No one was suspect. No more drones flew over the city. Businesses started opening again. Families moved back in. So did crime, but it wasn't anything more than the police could handle. It was like before the Batman.

Jon Cole stood on the roof of Gotham City Police headquarters, smoking a cigarette. He stared out over his city, listening to the sounds. He was still considered the "new" commissioner, but Gotham was his home. He had to protect her. He walked over to the giant spotlight on the roof. It hadn't been used in years. Batman didn't seem to need it much anymore. Really, the city had no need for Batman, either. Jon picked up the ax that he had carried up with him and shattered the light. The city no longer needed to put its trust in a vigilante. They had seen how far that could go. Gotham City belonged to its citizens. And their protectors: the police. It was time for families to be able to walk the streets at night again. No city could ever be free of crime, but there were better ways to manage it than the brutal actions of one driven man.

Jon finished his cigarette and lit another. He could see why Batman liked the rooftops so much. Looking out over the city from up here, it was beautiful and peaceful. Jon sighed and snubbed out his cigarette to walk inside. He knew he was going to have his hands full. He still had to put the department back together, there were criminals in hospitals that needed guards, and a backlog of paperwork to clean up. It was going to be late nights for a while, but he was glad it was his police force again, not Batman's.

* * *

Damien and Bruce sat in the cave, looking around at what remained of the Batman and his exploits. Over the past month, Bruce had rested and healed. His ribs felt normal enough, his arm was still in a sling but he could move it, and his limp was gone. Thankfully his body healed quickly.

In that month, he and Damien had gotten to know each other. Damien was by his side, helping him heal. He had, after all, done most of the damage. Bruce found out how Damien had escaped the manor, after being shot by the Joker.

"After you guys ran down to the cave, I rolled and fell out a window. I had every intention of coming back and confronting you again, but as I watched the news, I knew I had to do something. I saw how dark you were getting, how you were choking the city. I couldn't let you do that."

Bruce knew there were going to be issues. Damien had first tried to use the Joker to get to him, then had begun riots in Gotham to get his way. There was work to do. Damien was young, undisciplined, and needed guidance. Bruce could provide that. He could teach him. All he knew was crime fighting, and it would have to do.

Bruce healed, and he taught Damien the tools of his trade. Not just what he did, but why, and how. He showed him the reason, taught him how to think, how to use his mind to work through a problem, any problem, before acting irrationally. There was more to being Batman than just fighting and gadgets. It was solving the impossible, being a detective, figuring it out.

Bruce tried to teach Damien about his rigid code, no guns, no killing. They were instruments of Justice, not killers, and not thugs. He explained why he fought crime, how his life had changed, and what had pushed him over the edge. Bruce didn't know if it all was understood by Damien, but he tried. Soon, it would be time to test it.

* * *

The suit hadn't been worn in years, and it didn't fit Damien quite right. They would have to fix that. Eventually, Damien would get his own suit, his own gadgets that he specialized in, but for now, it was enough for him to go out with Batman, as Robin.

It had been months since Batman had been injured and in that time, he had not left the cave, had not patrolled his city, had not intruded upon the lives of Gotham's citizens. He had left them alone to live their lives, to carry on and rebuild after he had nearly destroyed them. And Gotham had done well. Standing over the city, he could hear the buzz of it, feel the life emanating from the streets below. It was his city. He had to protect it. He couldn't let what happened to him happen to someone else.

"So what do we do now?" Damien was anxious, wanted to put his training to the test. Batman could understand his eagerness and he smiled inwardly at it. Damien would have to learn patience, and there was no better teacher than experience. He'd make him wait a bit more.

It felt good to be back in the city, back to patrolling. He had seen the signal was gone from police headquarters, knew he had to stay away from there. It would have to be different this time. Batman had gotten too big, too known, too much of a focus from the public. He had become a threat. He would have to keep it low key this time. Stay hidden, stay in the shadows, keep them guessing, never reveal themselves. Maybe, in a few years, Gotham would be ready for the Batman again, but right now, the city needed to find its way without Batman.

Damien fidgeted, anxious to move. He had made him wait long enough. Batman silently shot a grappling hook to another roof and swung down from his perch. Robin was close on his heels and together, they patrolled their city to keep it safe.

* * *

Bruce and Damien got close as they patrolled, began to develop their father and son bond. It was difficult. Damien was already a grown man, and Bruce was too old to have to raise a child, but they lived together in the Manor. Damien learned the history of his family and learned about Wayne Enterprises. Bruce was no longer head of the company, the board of trustees took care of that. There was nothing to be able to hand over to Damien except the name at this point. Bruce still got a healthy stipend from his stock shares, but his role in the company had ended nearly five years ago.

The doorbell rang on a clear afternoon. Bruce opened the door and was met by a man in a well-tailored suit who stood there, quietly, waiting. Bruce's senses couldn't be turned off and he immediately sized him up. The suit concealed a well-built frame. He seemed to be in his late 30's or early 40's. He stood casually, relaxed, hands folded in front of him, but Bruce could tell he was a man who had seen action and could handle himself. Bruce looked him in the eye and asked "Can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, sir. I am Henry Pennyworth, 8th Troop, B-Squadron, 22nd SAS Regiment. I was sent by my uncle, Alfred Pennyworth. May I come in?"

Bruce smiled. "Of course, come in." Bruce led him to a study, trying to avoid the parts of the house still covered in sheets. Even though Bruce and Damien had been living in the Manor together for several months, there were still only a few rooms that were actually used. Bruce sat behind the large desk in the room and indicated a chair for Henry to sit. "So, what can I do for you, Mr. Pennyworth?" Bruce began.

"It's the other way around, actually, Mister Wayne. It is what I can do for you. I was sent here to take my uncle's place as butler and caretaker for the Wayne estate and family. I have recently finished my tour with the SAS, and when my uncle returned to England, he made arrangements for me to come here and fulfill my family's charge."

"So did Alfred explain what your duties would be?" Bruce would entertain him, but he had no intention of having another butler. Damien and himself didn't make that much of a mess.

"Yes. House cleaning, cooking, administrative, in charge of the household staff…"

"Well, as of right now, there is no staff and I don't really see a need for one, and we've been able to take care of ourselves for a while now, so.." Bruce was starting to get annoyed at this man who thought he could come in here and tell him what to do.

"That wasn't the end of the list. My uncle also told me about your nocturnal activities, your one-man war on crime. See, in addition to everything else, I am also your voice of reason. I am the one to pull you back from the edge. I am to keep you on the path that you have chosen for yourself. That is why my uncle left, Mr. Wayne. He failed to be your friend and keep you from becoming that which you hunt at night. While you might have fallen 100 feet from grace, each step was only a two-foot drop. I am to put you back on that path and keep you there. I am to succeed where my uncle failed. He left because he could not face you in the light of his failure. While you might have thought this war was your own, you were never alone, Mr. Wayne. That is my charge."

Bruce Wayne sat there, jaw open, shocked into silence by this man. His words cut deep and left Bruce emotionally scarred. Everything he said had been true. It had always been Alfred that kept Bruce from going too far. It had been Alfred that had helped him, guided him, and more importantly, been his friend. He was the one man Bruce could rely on and count on, and he had pushed him out of his life.

"Now," Henry continued and stood up, "here are my credentials for you to verify." He left an envelope on the desk. "Breakfast will be at 0700, sharp. My first priority will be to get a staff hired. Until then, you'll have to deal with my cooking. I already know my way around. Uncle Alfred was thorough in his explanations. I expect the next few days will be spent cleaning, both the manor and the cave. Then we will have to get you back at the head of your company, Mr. Wayne, which it still is. I'll bring my bags in and find my room. I'll see you in the morning, Mr. Wayne." Henry Pennyworth turned and left the room, with a military air in his step.

Bruce Wayne continued to sit, staring after this man, this Godsend, who had come to save him, forgive him and be his friend, something lacking in Bruce's life for a while. He picked up the envelope and opened it, reading over Henry's military career, training and a personal letter from Alfred. Bruce smiled. Henry would work out just fine.

* * *

The patient slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He didn't know where he was. All he could see were wires and tubes hooked to medical equipment with "WayneTech" emblazoned on them. They all seemed to be running to him. He looked down and sure enough, everything ran under the sheet covering him. He tried to move, but his muscles didn't want to cooperate. A man in a mask appeared and leaned over the bed.

"Good, you're awake." The man, doctor, the patient assumed, began checking all the machines, looking at charts and writing things down. The patient opened his mouth to speak but his mouth was too dry. "Here, let me help you." The doctor grabbed a squeeze bottle of water and let a few drops dribble into the patient's mouth.

"Where am I?" he asked, once his mouth was moist enough. "What happened?"

"You were in a terrible accident. You've been in a coma for five years. We weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up. But your body is healing, and with you awake, you can start moving around and get your muscles working again. But first, I'll get some food delivered. You'll need energy."

Food did sound wonderful. Five years? A five year coma? Who knew? "What kind of accident?"

"From what we can tell, it was an explosion of some sort. I'll go get the nurse to bring you some food. Try moving your arms, but not too much and don't get out of bed yet. Just work on trying to get your muscles working." The doctor turned and left the room.

The patient looked around, a grin on his face. An explosion? A five year coma? He started giggling to himself. He couldn't believe it. It would take a month or two, but once he could walk, it would be time. He started laughing out loud. Time to let Gotham know The Joker is back.


End file.
